My entry for day 8 of the 2011 April PAD Challenge.
Down the empty road a late moonlit night, alone
in my procession. The crusade that always killed me
finally blessed me one success–victory
stitched from the limbs of many deaths.
The upbeat in my chest erupts in sync
with eighties Brit pop spilling out the speakers–
her song on repeat–spinning my head around
as the red lights force me to slow down.
I sway as I wait at the intersection alone,
no rush to move. I’ve already made it home.
The taste of her mocha chip chap-stick still glosses my lips,
overpowers the stench of artificial pine
and aftertaste of candies that staled too quickly.
The heat of her rose petal mouth still burns my face;
I must exhale the smoke to savor the taste.
Drunk in the deluge of embryonic dreams,
no longer swerving down detours
into dead-ends that led me in circles
or kittens that swerved me off-course
but unyieldingly straightforward heading home.